


Succorance

by glitterandgin



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Fluff, M/M, Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF, i'm pretty sure there are persian kittens with less fluff than this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:51:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 12,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3540269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterandgin/pseuds/glitterandgin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathaniel had resigned himself to an arranged marriage. He wasn't prepared to actually fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nathaniel smoothed his suit and checked the mirror for the umpteenth time in case his hair had spontaneously decided to revolt. It hadn’t; it remained in the same practical style he’d worn it in for years--combed smooth, with the front strands braided back. He wondered if he should feel nervous about his impending marriage. Instead, he felt the same cool detachment he’d felt about all his father’s business affairs. That’s all the marriage was, after all, simply a chance for Arl Howe to gain a trading route in the Anderfels. With luck, he might come to love his bride, but he’d be satisfied with a life of marital apathy, with both parties content to ignore and be ignored until it became impossible to do so. 

The bell rang the hour, signifying that it was time to leave. He checked his reflection one last time and walked to the chantry to sign the papers and finalize the arrangement.

#

Anders wiped his palms down the front of his robes, frowning as the action only exacerbated the wrinkles he’d created from wringing the fabric in his hands on the carriage ride to Amaranthine. From what little personal information the Arl divulged about his son, Nathaniel sounded pleasant enough. Perhaps a little dull, but he wasn’t exactly marrying for endless entertainment. But no matter how many times he repeated that to himself, it couldn’t drown out the anxious jangling of his nerves. He’d left his family and admittedly few friends miles away to live with somebody he barely knew, and who barely knew him. He supposed he could run, if everything fell apart, but--

“Sir? They’re waiting for you in the chantry.”

Anders smiled so hard he thought his face would crack. Maker, at this rate he’d either faint or make a terrible joke. He didn't know which would make a worse first impression. “Right, yeah. On my way.”

#

Nathaniel wasn't sure if he should laugh or call the whole thing off. He'd been led to believe that his betrothed came from a respectable family, but he'd yet to see evidence of that. He’d yet to see evidence of  _ her.  _ If this man was, as he assumed, her chaperone, shouldn’t she be with him? Had she fled, leaving a servant to deliver the bad news?

He stared at him, waiting for some sort apology or explanation. Instead, what he got was:

“Nathaniel, right?  _ Howe  _ are you doing?” When nobody laughed at with his pun, he cleared his throat and said, “I’m Anders. Your spouse.”

#

Arl Howe walked into the main hall with the smugness of a cat who'd not only got the canary but had also gone on to help itself to an entire aviary, including the birds so expensive and rare that looking at them the wrong way constituted a crime. Nathaniel half expected to see him pick feathers out of his teeth. 

“Father, there’s a problem with the marriage,” he said with the intonation of someone reading a script for the very first time.

“Oh, don’t tell me. She’s not the beauty her parents promised. Does she have a harelip?” 

“You married me to a man.”

“I don’t seem to recall that sort of thing bothering you in the past,” Arl Howe said with a smile as bitter and slimy as molasses. "Though, now that I think of it, their correspondences were careful to avoid those tricky pronouns."

Nathaniel felt a flush creep up his neck and onto his cheeks. “We have to annul the marriage.”

“You want to ruin the trade agreement that will benefit our family for generations to come because your bride doesn’t live up to your expectations?”

It was a skill his father had always possessed, the ability to make the simplest request seem irrational and outlandish. Nathaniel had grown accustomed to it by his seventh year, but having it used against him still smarted like a once-broken bone on a winter day. 

Nathaniel sighed. “Never mind.”

“That’s what I thought.” Arl Howe patted Nathaniel’s shoulder. “Run along to your spouse now. I’m sure you’re dying to get to know each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first of all I'm so sorry that I haven't updated the current fic in literal ages--I'm definitely going to fix that soon! But I've wanted to fix this chapter for a while now, so I decided to get that out of the way first.


	2. Chapter 2

The Howe estate was huge. Actually, that was a gross understatement. The place was the size that huge things aspired to be when they grew up. Anders was pretty sure he could spend the rest of his life getting lost in the manor, and he probably would end up doing so. Of course, he was a little biased. His family owned a decent plot of land and had once possessed enough money to bribe the templars to look the other way while he practiced magic, but it was a run-down shack and a couple of coppers compared to what the Howes had.

Anders watched as the Howes’ servants brought his possessions in and followed them to what he hoped was his room. It wasn’t like they’d carry his stuff to the scullery, was it?

To his immense relief, they’d led him to his chambers. The room was decorated in pastel pinks and yellows, and the bed was twice as large as anything he’d ever slept on. After the servants had deposited his trunks in the far corner of the room, he launched himself at the bed at full speed.

It was like landing on a large and docile chicken. Where did they even find so many feathers? More importantly, did it matter? This was his bed, and his room, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever leave.

Was he going to share this room with Nathaniel? It was hard to imagine such a dour-looking person sleeping in this pastel monstrosity, comfortable as it might be.

There was a knock on the door.

“Cmmnn,” Anders called, face still pressed to the thick duvet.

“What?” Nathaniel said, voice muffled by the door.

“Come in,” Anders said, lifting his face. The door creaked open.

“I hope you’ll forgive the decorating scheme,” he said, standing at the very edge of the room. “Your parents never told us…”

“That I’m a man?”

“Well, yes.”

“I suppose they worried you’d call off the match if you found out. Hence this ridiculous get-up,” Anders said, still flopped on the bed. It would take a winch and a commandment from the Maker himself to get him to move at this point.

“Well, there’s no chance of that happening,” Nathaniel said. “My father’s made that abundantly clear.”

“Don’t get too excited about the marriage; you’ll sprain something,” Anders said.

“I could say the same of you.”

“Point.”

“Anyway,” Nathaniel said. “I just came to say that I don’t expect you to perform… marital duties, and I certainly won’t force you to.”

“What if I want to?” Anders said, deepening his voice to a purr.

“Goodbye,” Nathaniel said, practically sprinting out of the room and slamming the door.

Anders laughed himself to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Nathaniel spent the hours before dinner pacing in the library. Was it possible to be especially abandoned by the Maker? If so, he was pretty sure that was what had happened to him.

He’d grown accustomed to the idea of being married off. Honestly, that was to be expected in a family like his. Delilah had already been paired off with a wealthy landowner, and his father was entirely egalitarian when it came to manipulating his children’s lives. He wasn’t even particularly opposed to being with a man, as his father had so kindly reminded him. But somehow the idea of his spouse actually being interested in him had never factored into his plans for the future. It was like the world had been tilted ever so slightly, leaving him disoriented and a little nauseous.

 _If_ the man was truly interested in him, that was. There was always the chance that he was having fun at Nathaniel’s expense. That idea made his stomach churn even more.

It didn’t help that his spouse was rather attractive, once the surprise of him being a man had worn off. His lips seemed to quirk upwards regardless of if he was smiling, and when he smiled, it was like a perfect spring day. A man could get drunk off that smile.

Nathaniel shook his head. It was nearly dinner time, and it wouldn’t do to be late. He composed himself and walked to the dining hall.

His spouse was already sitting at the table, fidgeting in his seat. Nathaniel sat down next to him.

“It occurs to me that I never learned your name,” Nathaniel said.

“You can call me Anders.”

“I could call you just about anything. What’s your real name?”

Anders rolled his eyes. “Does it matter? I happen to like Anders. My--er, a close friend gave me that nickname, and I prefer it over my given name.”

“Very well,” Nathaniel said, turning back to the table.

Dinner was an exercise in frustration. Nathaniel spent most of his time whispering, “Not that fork. The other one. Not that one, either. Definitely not that one. That’s a spoon. Maker, it’s the one on the far left.” His advice, of course, fell on deaf ears. Anders seemed more concerned with eating as much food as possible, regardless of propriety. By the time dessert was brought out, Nathaniel found himself praying that Anders wouldn’t start eating with his hands.

They parted ways as soon as dinner was finished. Nathaniel stayed up well past midnight, trying and failing to catalogue his feelings. In the end, he fell asleep more confused than he’d been before dinner.


	4. Chapter 4

Anders couldn’t sleep. It’d been easy enough to take a nap, but his body was too aware of the new surroundings to let him sleep for more than a few hours at a time. It was ridiculous to think he was in any sort of danger in the Howe estate, but his body refused to listen to reason.

Sighing, he climbed out of bed and walked to the door. Was he allowed to wander around at night? What a silly thought. This was his home now, wasn’t it? Of course he was allowed to walk when he pleased. Having decided this, he left the room, though he took care to open the door as quietly as possible. Even if he’d convinced himself that he had the right to walk around at night, he didn’t want to risk getting caught. They might think he was trying to escape.

He strolled up and down the halls, unsure of where he was going. He’d had to be led to the dining room, and he hadn’t really paid attention to the route they’d taken. It didn’t help that the halls all looked the same, particularly in the dark. After making sure that there was no-one around, Anders conjured a small ball of flame in his palm. The added visibility helped some, and more importantly, he felt more like himself when he used his magic. Everything about the day had been surreal; it was nice to know that some things hadn’t changed.

What would they do if they discovered he was a mage? They’d accepted that he was a man, but that wasn’t something that could bring templars to their door. Was a trade route worth defying the Chantry? Nathaniel would probably be happier if the templars took him away, if Anders was being honest with himself. That thought shouldn’t have bothered him so much; it was ridiculous to expect a complete stranger to mourn the loss of his presence. Still, it would be nice to have someone who’d care.

His father hadn’t shed a tear when Anders had left for the Howe estate. As far as he was concerned, his son had been more of a liability than an asset, considering the hefty bribes needed to keep the templars at bay had nearly driven them to destitution. He’d looked like the Maker had returned when Arl Howe had agreed to his proposal.

His mother was sadder about the arrangement, but she’d ultimately accepted it without argument. What other choice did she have? Their money was running out, and she’d soon lose her son one way or another. At least there was a chance he’d be treated decently as a member of the Howe household.

Anders heard someone approaching and extinguished the flame. His breath caught in his chest, and he had to resist the childish urge to run back to his room at top speeds. That would only draw further attention to himself.

“What are you doing up?”

Anders let out a sigh of relief at the sound of Nathaniel’s voice. “Oh, you know. Just getting a feel for my new home.”

“At three in the morning?”

“No time like the present, right?” Anders shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “What are _you_ doing up?”

Nathaniel coughed. “I couldn’t sleep. Well… good night, Anders.”

“Wait,” Anders said, almost reaching out to grab Nathaniel’s hand. “I’m a little lost. Help me find my room?”

Nathaniel said, “In all honesty, I don’t remember where your room is.”

“At least the floor’s carpeted, I guess,” Anders said, cursing himself for leaving his room in the first place. “Good night, Nate.”

“That’s not--my room’s just down the hall. You could stay there, if you want,” Nathaniel said, gesturing to a door behind him.

Anders smiled. “That would be lovely.”

Nathaniel’s room was only slightly like what Anders had imagined. The colours were muted and all the furniture was practical, but there were signs that Nathaniel had once been a child. The floor was stained with splotches of paint, and a threadbare plush rabbit was tucked in on one side of the bed. Nathaniel walked to the chair in front of the fireplace.

“Aren’t you going to bed?” Anders said.

“I thought I’d sleep in the chair.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed. I’ll sleep in the chair.”

They stared at each other, each unwilling to back down.

Finally, Nathaniel said, “I suppose the bed is big enough for both of us.”

Anders smiled and climbed in on the side that was free of plush rabbits. Nathaniel extinguished the candle and joined him in bed. Once they were both settled in, Anders fell asleep immediately. 


	5. Chapter 5

Nathaniel woke to find Anders wrapped around him. He tried to shift away; Anders clutched him tighter. This close, Nathaniel could smell the soap Anders used, minty with traces of elfroot and surprisingly soothing. He relaxed into the grip.

He couldn’t explain why he’d lied to Anders last night. He knew exactly where Anders’ room was; he could have easily led him there. But he found himself incapable of even entertaining that thought.

Anders buried his face in Nathaniel’s neck, and his breath caught in his throat. Was he dreaming of anyone? If so, whom? It was hopelessly optimistic at best and narcissistic at worst to think it was him, but Nathaniel could dream. If his arms weren't pinned to his sides, he knew he'd give in to the temptation to stroke Anders' hair. Instead, he settled for running his hands up and down Anders' back, enjoying how smooth his skin was. He could have stayed like that for an eternity.

To his disappointment, Anders woke soon after. Nathaniel removed his hands as though Anders' flesh had burned him.

Anders blinked, blushed, and detangled himself from Nathaniel.

"Sorry about that," he said, scooting to the other side of the bed.

Nathaniel cleared his throat. "No problem."

"Happens all the time, does it?" Anders said with a lopsided grin.

"I don't think I like what you're implying."

"Only that you must have a lot of sleepovers with charming ma-er, men," Anders said so sincerely that it circled back to sarcasm. "Maker, I'm starving. What's for breakfast?"

“You’d have to ask the cook,” Nathaniel said, climbing out of bed. A stray piece of hair had flopped into Anders’ eyes, and Nathaniel desperately wanted to tuck it behind his ear. He felt colder without Anders touching him, despite the warmth of the room.

“I guess I should go get dressed,” Anders said, trying and failing to detangle the small rat’s nest on the back of his head. “I’d hate to cause a scandal by showing up in my smalls.”

“Will you be able to find your room?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Anders said, frowning. “I guess breakfast will be awkward.”

“I know--I think I remember where your room is now,” Nathaniel said, hoping Anders hadn’t noticed his slip up.

“Great,” Anders said. “Lead the way.”

Nathaniel pulled on a dressing gown and gestured for Anders to follow him out of the room. As they walked, Nathaniel found himself wishing he could take Anders’ hand. They reached the bedroom, which was two floors up and tucked away at the very end of the hall.

Anders smiled at Nathaniel. “You’re a life-saver. See you at breakfast.”

“I look forward to it,” Nathaniel said without thinking. He spun and walked away before Anders had a chance to reply. 


	6. Chapter 6

“So, what do you like to do?” Nathaniel said the moment Anders had shovelled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. It seemed to be a fundamental aspect of human nature to ask a question the moment someone had taken a bite of food.

Anders chewed and swallowed too quickly, choking on the eggs. Great. He was going to die because his husband asked him a question. He coughed, spitting chewed egg back onto his plate. Let Nathaniel be disgusted; the whole thing was his fault.

Once he’d caught his breath, he said, “Men. Women.”

Nathaniel paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “That… wasn’t what I meant.”

Anders grinned. “Oh, I know.”

“Are you always like this?”

“Oh, no. Sometimes I’m much worse. Downright naughty, in fact,” Anders said, waggling his eyebrows. “So, Nate. What do _you_ like to do?”

Nathaniel put his fork down. "I like to read. I'm also trained in archery."

"So," Anders said, hoping he sounded nonchalant. He had a feeling he sounded more like a used wagon salesman who knew the wagon in question only had three wheels and was missing half the roof. "How do you feel about mages?"

"They're locked up for everyone's good. The chantry says as much," Nathaniel said, furrowing his brow. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Anders said with excessive cheer. It was a good thing he'd decided against wearing mage robes. "You know, I'm not nearly as hungry as I'd thought. I think I'll go for a walk."

"Do you want me to join you?"

"I'd hate to interrupt your breakfast. Anyway, I'm sure we'll see each other again soon enough."

Anders strode out of the dining hall and down the nearest corridor. He knew he shouldn't be upset. It was likely that there were other mages who felt the same way as Nathaniel. He shouldn't have even asked.

He certainly shouldn't have excused himself from the table. Now Nathaniel would suspect something, and he'd have to expend more energy to hide his magic. The very idea exhausted him.

Magic came to him as naturally as breathing. In some ways, it came more naturally. While thinking about breathing made it stilted and awkward, thinking about magic only seemed to increase his prowess. But now, it seemed, he'd have to hide it for the rest of his life. It was too risky to attempt to bring Nathaniel over to his side.

He wandered out of the manor and down into the courtyard. He hadn't intended to do so, but it made sense to go shopping while he was out. He didn't have many clothes that weren't robes, after all.

There was a collection of shops just outside the gates. Their proximity to the Howe estate guaranteed that they already knew about Nathaniel's new spouse, and were therefore more willing to let him purchase items on credit.

He bought a few tunics and some trousers that were loose-fitting enough that he could almost pretend they were mage robes. In time, he was sure, he'd grow accustomed to them.

Just as he was about to return to the manor proper, he spotted a bookshop. Nathaniel _had_ said he liked to read. He may as well get him a gift while he was out.

But what kind of book should he buy? He scanned every bookshelf until he found the perfect one. Oh, this would be priceless. 


	7. Chapter 7

Nathaniel sat at the breakfast table. His eggs had gone cold, but he didn’t care. Anders had smiled as he left, but the smile was as real as the silk roses that adorned noble women’s hats--pleasing to look at, but fake nonetheless. What had he said to warrant that smile? Maybe he should go look for Anders. The estate was rather large, and he’d already demonstrated a less than impressive sense of direction.

Just as he’d stood to search for Anders, his husband returned.

“Got something for you,” Anders said with a smile a touch more genuine than his last one. “You might want to unwrap it when you’re alone, though.”

“Thank you,” Nathaniel said, blinking. “I… hadn’t thought to get you anything.”

“It’s not a trade, Nate. It’s a gift,” Anders said. “I got it because it reminded me of you.”

“Thank you,” Nathaniel said.

“See you at lunch, Nate,” Anders said as he turned and walked away. As he reached the doorway, he looked over his shoulder and winked.

Nathaniel waited until he was sure Anders was gone to walk to his room. When he arrived, he ripped the brown paper off of the parcel.

It was a book. He’d expected as much from the shape, but he hadn’t expected this sort of book. The cover was decorated by a painting of two men locked in a passionate embrace. It had to be a coincidence that one was blond while the other had black hair. Nathaniel refused to let himself believe otherwise.

Out of curiosity, he flipped the book over. It read:

_Jonathyn had always lived in the lap of luxury. Whatever he wanted, it was his. But when he becomes smitten with his handsome stable boy, he risks losing it all. Will true love triumph? Find out in this tale of naughty nobility!_

Heat crept up Nathaniel’s neck to his face. Did he dare to read it? Anders had said he’d thought of him when he saw it. Clearly his husband had a cruel sense of humour.

Still, it couldn’t help to read more. Out of morbid fascination, of course. Certainly not for other reasons. He flipped to a random page and read:

_Jonathyn looped the rope around Ayden’s wrists, securing him to the bedposts._

_“Is this tight enough?” he said, his voice as rich as he was._

_Ayden lifted his head from the pillow long enough to say, “I’ll be asking you the same question soon enough.”_

_Jonathyn felt a surge of heat rush to his loins. In one swift motion, he plunged his throbbing manhood inside of Ayden. They groaned in unison._

“Anders,” Nathaniel said, coughing and looking away from the book. Did he dare read on?

_Jonathyn thrust in and out of Ayden like a milkmaid churning butter, hitting Ayden’s pleasure button with each thrust. In seconds, they were coming apart like a cheap table._

_“Just wait till you hear my ideas about the riding crop,” Jonathyn hissed as he untied Ayden._

Nathaniel rubbed his eyes. It was bad enough Anders had given him erotica, but did it have to be so poorly written? He needed to have words with this Florabella Summers.

There was only one thing to do. He’d have to get a gift for Anders.


	8. Chapter 8

Once he got used to it, the Howe estate wasn’t nearly as big and intimidating as Anders had thought. He’d spent most of his time between handing the gift to Nathaniel and lunch wandering around the manor, stopping occasionally to open any unlocked doors. At one point he stumbled upon two scullery maids getting more action than he was likely to get for the rest of his life.

For one thing, he wasn’t sure he could ever truly be attracted to someone who’d indirectly expressed a dislike for mages. It would feel like a betrayal of the very essence of himself. And judging by Nathaniel’s reaction to his flirting, his husband was entirely disinterested in him. Shame about both, really. He’d rather enjoyed cuddling Nathaniel, even if it had been an accident.

He wondered how Nathaniel was liking his new gift. Had he bothered to read it, or had he put it away after seeing the cover? He’d find out at lunch. The man had a worse poker face than Anders, and that was saying something.

When he’d exhausted himself wandering around, he returned to the dining hall and waited for lunch.

"Nate," he said, smiling. "I wondered if you'd planned to skip lunch."

"You need to come to my room."

"And here I thought you'd never ask," Anders said, letting his smile grow more sultry. "My book gave you _ideas_ , did it?"

"Just... come to my room," Nathaniel said, suddenly interested in the wall behind Anders.

"Whatever you want, my dear," Anders said as he followed Nathaniel out of the dining hall.

Nathaniel paused outside his door. "Don't make any sudden movements."

"Well, this got interesting fast."

Nathaniel pushed the door open, making the opening just large enough for them to squeeze through.

An orange kitten sat in the middle of Nathaniel's bed.

Anders couldn't help it. He squealed.

"Look at him! Oh, he's adorable. Thank you, Nate," he said, practically bowling Nathaniel over as he rushed to embrace him. "I'll call him Ser Pounce-a-lot."

"You like him, then?" Nathaniel said, the smile evident in his voice.

"I love him," Anders said, squeezing him tighter. "He's perfect."

"Lunch should be ready now," Nathaniel said, shifting in Anders' arms.

"Oh. Right. Come along, Ser Pounce-a-lot!"

To his surprise, the kitten leapt off the bed and followed him to the dining hall. 


	9. Chapter 9

Things were not going as he’d planned. He’d left with every intention of getting a gift just as ridiculous as that book, but he was lost the moment he saw the kitten wandering outside of the manor. Somehow he just knew he had to give that cat to Anders.

It was worth it to see Anders' face light up. There'd be plenty of time to pay Anders back for that book, but he had a feeling smiles like that would be rare.

It was a shame he'd give the cat such a ridiculous name, though. Why couldn't "Fluffy" suffice? Even "Pumpkin" would work in a pinch. The list of acceptable names for a cat was practically endless, and he'd picked Ser Pounce-a-lot.

The moment they arrived at the dining hall, the cat leapt onto the table. Nathaniel sighed.

"Would you please get your cat off the table?"

Anders sat down and, in a ridiculously high voice, said, "Come on, Ser Pounce-a-lot. Why don't you sit over here?"

The cat, to its credit, walked over and took a seat on Anders’ lap. Anders immediately began fawning over it.

“So, Nate,” Anders said as lunch was brought out. “How did you like my gift?”

“It was… very interesting, Anders. Were you trying to tell me something?”

“You said you like to read,” Anders said, his expression far too innocent. You’d think he’d given Nathaniel a children’s book.

“And your first thought was to buy me erotica. It makes me wonder where your mind is,” Nathaniel said.

“You get a better look at the sky from the gutter,” Anders said, stroking the cat and feeding it a scrap of chicken.

“And I suppose the opportunity to look up skirts from there doesn’t hurt.”

“I knew you had a dirty mind in there,” Anders said with a grin.

“Yes. I found it in a heap of old laundry.”

“Was that a joke?”

“I’ve been known to make them on occasion,” Nathaniel said more touchily than he would have liked.

“I’ll look for Qunari in flower crowns next,” Anders said, eyes crinkling as his smile grew. “I’m just messing with you. I knew you couldn’t be dour all the time--your face would get stuck that way.”

“Are you going to pick on me all day?”

“Not all day. I’d planned to take a nap later.”

Nathaniel sighed.

He spent the rest of the day--though he’d never admit it--reading the novel, which was filthier than a kennel of mabari. Surely some of those acts were impossible?

Despite his occasional scepticism, Nathaniel found himself drawn into the book. It didn’t help that Ayden had blond hair, making it all the easier to imagine someone else in his place. He’d tried to kill the thought when it first appeared, but it popped up more often than darkspawn during a blight. By the time he was halfway done, he’d given up on ignoring the fantasy.

Dinner wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as he’d expected. It was ridiculous to think Anders knew what he’d been doing. He wasn’t a mind-reader, after all. Still, he found himself letting his gaze linger on Anders longer than could be excused as a simple glance, and his mouth went dry when Anders licked a dollop of cream from his lower lip. He excused himself before dessert was finished.

He’d readied himself for bed and was about to climb in when there was a knock on his door.

“Anders?”

“Would you believe I got lost again?” Anders said with a smile so roguish it could probably pick locks.

“Come in,”Nathaniel said, walking back to bed and leaving the door open for Anders to follow.

Anders closed the door behind him and began undressing.

Shit. What was he supposed to do? If he looked, he’d definitely be noticed, but deliberately staring somewhere else would be just as obvious. Closing his eyes was completely out of the question. This wouldn’t have been a problem if not for that blighted book. He settled for letting his gaze wander, occasionally glancing over at Anders. He looked absolutely gorgeous in the light of the fireplace, which cast shadows on his lean body and seemed to caress him.

He climbed into bed and faced the opposite wall as soon as Anders had folded his clothes.

“Don’t I get a good night kiss?”

“Good night, Anders.”


	10. Chapter 10

Nathaniel woke groggy and confused. Someone had draped an arm and leg over him, so he embraced them in response, eyes still closed. Then he felt lips, soft and insistent, pressing lightly against his. He began pressing back, moving a hand up to tangle it in their hair. They continued kissing sleepily until Nathaniel opened his eyes.

There Anders lay, eyes still closed. His breathing pattern indicated that he was at least partially asleep, and he was smiling.

Why had he opened his eyes? If he hadn't, they could have continued kissing. He couldn't resume the kiss in good conscience, not while Anders was still asleep.

Anders opened his eyes and blinked, seemingly unaware of what they’d just done. "Oops. I swear, I won't make a habit of clinging onto you."

Anders made an attempt to move away, but Nathaniel continued holding onto him.

"I don't mind," Nathaniel said.

Anders relaxed into his grip and snuggled closer, draping his leg over Nathaniel once more.

Nathaniel gulped, willing himself to not think about that blighted book. He watched as Anders’ eyes fluttered shut once more.

If he fell asleep, would they kiss again? He almost wanted to try and find out. Instead, he settled for rubbing Anders’ back. It seemed like a good idea until Anders began rubbing against him. He tried--Maker knew he tried--to restrain himself, but his body reacted nonetheless. When he tried to wriggle out of Anders’ grip, Anders only clutched him tighter. This was what he got for encouraging his husband.

Well, it wasn’t as though Anders would wake soon. He let Anders wrap himself around him, hoping his… reaction would go unnoticed. As far as he knew, it did.

Anders buried his face in Nathaniel’s neck and exhaled deeply, as though he’d travelled miles to reach this point. In a way, Nathaniel reflected, he had. It would have been sweet, if not for his erection trapped between them. Instead of basking in the moment, he found himself anxiously praying that Anders would stay asleep until he was in a less embarrassing state.

That didn’t appear to be happening any time soon. The moment he thought he’d gained control of the situation, he remembered a scene from that book, replacing the characters with himself and Anders. As bad as those ideas were, they were nothing compared to the suddenly persistent fantasy of gentle lovemaking. _Anders, spread out on his back as they set a slow, almost torturous pace, biting his lip as he tried and failed to stifle his moans_ … Maker, it was hopeless.

He needed to think of something else. Dead nugs. Live nugs. A nug pageant where they were dressed as various historical figures. Why was he fixating on nugs? At least it was working, as distressing as the nug fixation was. By the time Anders stirred again, he was in complete control of his body.

This time when Anders tried to move away, Nathaniel let him. As enjoyable as it was, the physical proximity wasn’t worth risking humiliation. He watched from the corner of his eye as Anders got dressed and left the room. Of course Anders was only genuinely affectionate when he was asleep. That was the essence of Nathaniel’s luck.

He flopped back into bed and groaned. 


	11. Chapter 11

Anders practically ran back to his room, Ser Pounce-a-lot trailing along behind him. When they were safely inside, he nudged the door shut and conjured a ball of lightning.

His breaths grew more even as he let the lightning pass from hand to hand, just barely prickling his flesh. It was like realising he’d been walking with pockets full of rocks. Now that they were out, he could move more freely. It was all too tempting to let the ball of lightning grow, but that would make it harder to conceal. And he didn’t have any prepared excuses for why the curtains looked like they’d been caught in a thunderstorm. He’d have to wait until he was far from other people to really use his magic.

His hair waved as the static travelled up his arms and to his head, and his fingers were beginning to go a little numb from playing with the lightning so much. He’d care later, when the euphoria of using his magic wore off. He was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t notice the door swing open.

“Anders?”

Anders swore and let the ball of lightning vanish. Hopefully Nathaniel hadn’t seen anything. In a tone that tried for chipper and landed more in the “panicked” range he said, “Nate. Fancy seeing you here.”

“You’re a mage,” Nathaniel said tonelessly.

Anders shrugged. He’d been caught. Even he couldn’t bluff his way out of this one, and he’d once written a convincing book report based on a book review and the table of contents. There was nothing to do besides wait for Nathaniel to call the templars to take him away. And just when he was getting used to life here.

He tried not to think of all things he’d miss. There were the obvious comfortable beds and fine meals, but he’d grown attached to more than that. To sleepy kisses, half-remembered and still foggy in his mind. To Nathaniel’s arms wrapped around his torso while he slept. To Nathaniel.

Nathaniel, who had already turned and walked down the hall, undoubtedly to call for the nearest templar.

Anders sat on his bed. Ser Pounce-a-lot jumped onto his lap, and Anders felt a ghost of a smile form on his face. Would he get to keep Ser Pounce in the tower? The alternative was too terrible to imagine.

There was nothing left to do but sit and wait for the templars to come. Hours passed, but no templars were forthcoming. He was about to take a nap when Nathaniel appeared in his doorway.

“It’s nearly lunch. Are you coming?”

“Oh. Uh, yes. I’ll be on my way.”

Maybe the templars were waiting in the dining hall. That would be cruel, and therefore exactly the sort of thing they’d do. He’d have to see for himself.


	12. Chapter 12

He could barely stomach what little he attempted to eat. The food tasted like dust in his mouth. His hands shook so badly that it was a wonder he could even hold his utensils (still not the right ones, as Nathaniel continued to point out.)

“I’m not going to turn you over,” Nathaniel said, his voice just barely audible over the sound of Anders’ heart in his ears.

“What?” he said, the question little more than a soft exhalation of air.

“I’m not going to turn you over. I won’t tell anyone. Please, calm down. You’re making it hard to digest,” Nathaniel said, reaching over to pat Anders’ hand.

“Why?” Anders said, voice stronger but ready to shatter at a moment’s notice. “Mages are kept in circles for everyone’s good. You said as much.”

“You belong here,” Nathaniel said. His hand still rested upon Anders’. “You’re not planning to become an abomination, are you?”

“Of course not. It would ruin my complexion,” Anders said with a noise somewhere between a snort and a sob.

“Then I won’t turn you in. This is your home now, Anders. You should feel safe in it. And that means you shouldn’t feel the need to hide anything from me.” As he spoke, Nathaniel leaned closer to Anders.

“What about my collection of bronto plushes?” Anders said, cursing his pathological need to ruin moments.

“Maybe you can keep those to yourself,” Nathaniel said with a small laugh. “Now please, eat.”

“You might need to give my hand back first, Nate.”

“Right.”

Anders resumed eating, suddenly ravenous now that he knew he wouldn’t be dragged away by templars. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Nathaniel staring at him with a smile. Anders shook his head and smiled.

When they finished eating, Nathaniel said, “Would you mind accompanying me to my chambers? I’d like to speak with you.”

“Have you ever noticed how much time you spend in there?” Anders said as they walked up the stairs.

“They’re my _rooms_.”

“I’m just saying, surely there’s other stuff you could do around here. Like camping, or archery. Maybe there are giant rats in the scullery that you should fight.”

“Did you want to go camping?”

“Forget I said that.”

They entered Nathaniel’s quarters. Nathaniel stared at Anders like he was trying to decide how best to gain an elusive piece of treasure.

Anders shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then back again. “Well, this was--”

Nathaniel kissed him then, tentative at first but growing more confident with each passing moment. Anders found himself kissing back before he’d really thought about what was going on.

He pulled away and gasped, “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you. Aren’t mages supposed to be clever?” Nathaniel said, wrapping his arms around Anders’ waist.

“Why?”

“Because I liked when we kissed this morning, and I thought it’d be nice to do it when we’re both awake. Is that all right?”

“More than all right. Perfect. Brilliant. Ama--”

He was cut off once again by Nathaniel’s lips pushing against his. He wrapped his arms around Nathaniel’s neck and felt every muscle in his body relax as they continued kissing. When they broke away, Anders was dizzy and elated, like how he imagined getting drunk would feel.

“Now I’ll have to get drunk,” he murmured to himself.

“Was it that unpleasant?” Nathaniel said, affronted but unwilling to let go of Anders.

“Not at all,” Anders said quickly. “I was just thinking… it doesn’t matter.”

“Anders,” Nathaniel said, pressing lightly against the small of his back. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Immensely. We should definitely do it again sometime. In fact, there’s no time like the present,” Anders said before kissing Nathaniel. He didn’t bother trying to hide his disappointment when Nathaniel pulled away.

“Would you like to do more than that?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

They disrobed quickly, tripping over trousers and getting caught in shirts in their eagerness. Nathaniel pulled the tie from Anders’ hair, shaking it loose with his fingers. Anders clutched Nathaniel, nails digging into skin as he reveled in the feeling of being so close to another person. The backs of his knees hit the bed as Nathaniel gently pushed him backwards. He sat on the bed and leaned back on his arms.

“What do you want to do?” Nathaniel said, running his fingers up and down Anders’ chest.

“I thought we could have a nice game of chess,” Anders said, the joking tone ruined by gasps as Nathaniel’s hands trailed lower on his body. It was like his nursemaid had always said; humour would only get him so far in life. “Take me, Nate.”

Nathaniel nodded and turned to dig through his nightstand for the necessary materials. He motioned for Anders to make room on the bed.

Once he’d complied, Nathaniel sat between his legs. He stroked Anders’ hair with an almost reverential expression. “Have you done this before?”

Anders nodded. “I knew someone back in the Anderfels. Knew him many times, in fact.”

“A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed,” Nathaniel said a little testily. Anders kissed his nose, and he smiled again.

Anders moved to straddle Nathaniel, but Nathaniel placed a hand on his chest, halting his progress. Anders frowned. “Did you change your mind?”

“I’ve been thinking about this,” Nathaniel said, ears reddening as he stared at a point above Anders’ shoulder. “I’d like you on your back, if you don’t mind.”

“As you wish,” Anders said, moving so he was supine on the bed. He gasped as Nathaniel began preparing him, slow almost to the point of being maddening.

It was like a waltz, all gentle movements and smooth transitions. Nathaniel caressed Anders with one hand as though he feared he’d crack with too much pressure, and they kissed with every thrust. Despite his earlier misgivings, Anders found himself revelling in the slow rhythm. Like the refrain of a song, the words “I love you” repeated in his head as Nathaniel pushed the hair out of his eyes and kissed him once more.

He arched his back as Nathaniel lightly scraped his nails down his chest, pulling Nathaniel down for another kiss. He felt his magic buzzing beneath his skin, and before he had time to stop himself, a little fizzle of electricity shot out from his fingers and travelled down Nathaniel’s spine. Nathaniel gasped, hips stuttering. Encouraged by this reaction, Anders sent another prickle of electricity down Nathaniel’s back. They were finished moments after.

When they’d cleaned up, Nathaniel pulled Anders close to him. They fell asleep soon after, limbs and mouths pressed together.


	13. Chapter 13

When Nathaniel woke, it was dark outside. By the looks of it, they'd missed dinner. Anders shifted and opened his eyes.

"Are you hungry?" Nathaniel said more fondly than he'd meant to.

"Maybe a little," Anders said, nuzzling against him.

"I'll go see if I can find us some food. Wait here," he said, kissing Anders' forehead.

"Pity, I thought I'd wander around naked and shock the servants."

Nathaniel stopped pulling on his trousers and stared at Anders. He knew it was a joke, but he also had the feeling that the line between “joke” and “plan” was dangerously thin for Anders. "Please don't."

"Selfish, depriving the servants of this amazing sight," Anders said, shaking his head with exaggerated disapproval. "But if you insist, I suppose I'll have to stay in this soft, warm bed. It’ll be a chore, but I'll do it for you."

"You're a true martyr," Nathaniel said, rolling his eyes.

"Don't take too long. I miss you already."

Nathaniel snuck into the kitchen and grabbed an array of breads, meats, and cheeses. He was halfway to his room when his father stopped him.

"You're getting your wish," he said by way of greeting. It was still friendlier than some of his past greetings.

"Pardon?"

"I'm having the marriage annulled. It seems they weren't as well-connected as they'd said."

"But there must be something salvageable," Nathaniel said, mutilating a piece of bread without fully realising it.

"Only if we want a trade route half the size of what I'd planned. Don't pretend to be disappointed for my sake. We'll be sending their whore back to the Anderfels in a week's time," he said as he walked past. "Don't worry. We'll find someone better suited to you."

"Thank you," Nathaniel said weakly.

He walked to his room on stiff, numb legs. His face must have shown what had happened, because Anders' smile faded when he saw him.

"What's wrong?" he said as Nathaniel placed the food on the nightstand and climbed into bed.

"Anders, I need to know--do you love me?" he said, pulling Anders close to him.

"What?"

"Do you love me?"

Anders nodded. "Why?"

"Because I have a plan, but I don't want to involve you unless you love me. There's no point wasting your time otherwise," Nathaniel said. "Grab your necessities and meet me back here at midnight."


	14. Chapter 14

Nathaniel sat on his bed, counting the seconds until the clock rang midnight. The moment the bell rang, there was a short, quiet rap on the door.

He grabbed his packs and met Anders in the corridor.

He whispered, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"It's the only way we can be together, isn't it?"

Nathaniel nodded.

"Then lead the way."

They crept through the halls, pausing periodically when one of them thought they heard a servant. When they finally reached the courtyard, Nathaniel’s heart raced like he’d run laps around the estate.

His hindbrain knew it was a bad idea, and reminded him of this with every step. So much could go wrong, and he was endangering Anders’ life by doing this. If they were caught… No. The fear swam around the edges of his brain like a shark, and even entertaining the slightest thought in that direction meant metaphorical death in the water.

There was a hole in the wall that surrounded the estate, just big enough for them to creep through. His father had it made himself, and positioned the heaviest guard around it. He claimed that calculated weakness was a man’s greatest asset both on and off the battlefield, and that the right trap was worth more than a battalion of men.

Nathaniel gestured for Anders to stay in place. There was no sense in the guards catching both of them if this went wrong. 


	15. Chapter 15

Anders thought his heart would explode. Should Nathaniel be back by now? What was the acceptable amount of time to wait before rushing off to find him? Did it matter?

Ser Pounce-a-lot squirmed in his pack, making his displeasure at his current location clear with a plaintive meow. He’d have to factor that into his daring rescue. He could probably handle a few guards--after all, what was the likelihood they’d been trained to fight mages--but he didn’t want to endanger Ser Pounce-a-lot. Maybe he could hide his pack behind a bush before the fight. He’d just have to make sure Ser Pounce-a-lot couldn’t get out, and then--

“I hope you weren’t worried,” Nathaniel said, seeming to melt out of the shadows. “I didn’t know it would take so long.”

“Are they--?”

“No, just unconscious. Try not to trip over them on your way out.” Nathaniel took his hand. “We don’t have much time.”

Everything was going well until Anders stumbled over something, falling into Nathaniel, who proceeded to fall to the ground.

“I tripped over one of them, didn’t I?” Anders said flatly.

Nathaniel made a noise between a groan and a short laugh. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re bad at following directions.”

They untangled themselves and resumed their escape, only stopping when neither of them could run without tripping over flat ground.

“You know, I was joking about going camping,” Anders said as Nathaniel pitched the tent. “I guess that teaches me not to have a sense of humour.”

“You could joke about helping me,” Nathaniel said as one of the pegs rolled off into the darkness.

“Believe me, this _is_ me helping,” Anders said from his spot several feet away from the lopsided tent.

When Nathaniel managed to erect the tent without it immediately collapsing, they climbed in, taking care not to move too much lest they undo thirty minutes’ worth of hard work.

Despite the fact that it was a warm summer night, Anders couldn’t stop shivering. As he embraced Nathaniel he whispered, “What if they find us?”

“They won’t.”

Anders wished he could believe him, but the odds were stacked so far against them that they loomed like a poorly constructed tower. “How do you know?”

“Because I won’t let them,” Nathaniel said, squeezing Anders’ shoulder.

And as he pressed up against Nathaniel so that the words vibrated into his chest and their breathing synchronized, Anders found it a little easier to believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I've been absent. I've been a little busy with my senior thesis, but now that things are winding down you can expect a lot more updates.


	16. Chapter 16

“Wake up,” Nathaniel said, prodding Anders.

“‘s still dark out. Wake me up when it’s a reasonable hour,” Anders said, covering his eyes and pulling the blanket up.

“We’re not getting caught because you wanted beauty sleep,” Nathaniel said. “Come on. You can sleep when we set up camp again.”

“Maker knows when that will be,” Anders grumbled as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. His back ached even with the cushioning between him and the ground, and his clothes had that awkward slept-in feel. “I don’t suppose we’ll be having breakfast first.”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes and pulled an apple out of his pack. “You can eat while we walk.”

“This is the worst camping trip ever,” Anders said as Nathaniel collapsed the tent and they set off further into the woods.

Once he’d woken up some, panic set in. They were running away. They were running away from a powerful arl who probably had an army of his own who would have no problem attacking a squishy mage and his husband and they’d get captured if they were _lucky_ and even if they didn’t get caught how were they going to support themselves because they couldn’t live in the woods forever and-

“We’ll be fine,” Nathaniel said, stopping and kissing his forehead. “Stop worrying.”

“Right. We’ll be fine. I’m sure your father will take the news of our escape in a calm and forgiving manner. He seems the type.”

Nathaniel took Anders’ hand and they continued walking.

“Where are we going?” Anders said after some time.

“There’s a village southwest of here. We can get supplies and directions there,” Nathaniel said, guiding him down one of the identical paths through the trees.

As the day warmed and the sun trickled through the leaves, it was almost easy to pretend they were taking a leisurely stroll. Despite himself, Anders began to relax, taking time to admire the birds as they flitted through the forest. His admiration only lasted until something stepped on a twig a few feet away, immediately drawing him back to a present where there was the very real possibility of Howe guards finding them before they had a hope of reaching the village.

By the time they reached the village, Anders was certain he had at least ten grey hairs and a newly developed heart condition.

“Stay-”

“No,” Anders said, squeezing Nathaniel’s hand. “Whatever it is, I’m going with you. Lead the way.”

Nathaniel did, muttering something about stubborn mages as he did so.


	17. Chapter 17

The town hadn’t changed much since the last time Nathaniel had visited. There was still the persistent smell of dung mixed with unwashed bodies and pie. Rather than the last smell improving the first two, it only made Nathaniel suddenly wary of any pies he might come across in the next few days.

“We should check the Chanter’s Board for jobs,” Nathaniel said as they wove their way through the crowd, artfully avoiding any stray piles of dung. “My money won’t last us forever.”

“Good idea,” Anders said, ignoring the fact that the cat had popped its front half out of his pack and was batting at his ponytail. “Destitution looks terrible on me.”

“Really? I thought it was just those robes,” Nathaniel said. “You do realise we’re supposed to be inconspicuous, right? Where did you get robes, much less ones with feathers?”

“I happen to think they’re fashionable,” Anders said with snippiness that fell somewhere between feigned and real. “And they were a gift from a friend.”

Something in the way Anders said “friend” made Nathaniel reconsider his response. “The colour suits you.”

“Thank you,” Anders said, preening a little. “Now, where was that Chanter’s Board?”

They wandered around the town, pausing occasionally when Anders got distracted by a shopkeeper’s wares. They were nearly at the board when Anders made a noise like a strangled parrot and tugged Nathaniel into an alley.

“What are--?” Nathaniel said when no explanation or kisses were forthcoming.

“Templars,” Anders whispered. “They can probably sense mages or something. I don’t know how they work. I’ve spent my entire life _avoiding_ them.”

Nathaniel refrained from pointing out that Anders probably wouldn’t have to dart into an alley if he wasn’t wearing robes. Instead, he said, “I don’t think they can sense mages unless they’ve been in the Circle. You should be safe, as long as you refrain from turning anyone into a toad.”

“Well, there go my plans for the day,” Anders said with a laugh just a sliver away from hysterics. He cleared his throat. “Right. Chanter’s Board. We probably won’t find many jobs in an alley--at least, not ones you’d approve of me doing.”

Nathaniel must have looked hurt, because Anders immediately added, “Not that I’d do them, anyway. You’re more than enough.”

They walked to the Chanter’s Board, fingers twined together. Nathaniel skimmed over the notices, avoiding any that involved tracking down mages. Eventually he settled on two that seemed simple enough: one requesting the retrieval of a family heirloom, and another asking for help planning a ball. Considering his upbringing, Nathaniel doubted the latter would be much trouble. Having taken the respected fliers from the board, he turned to Anders. “Do you want to look around some more?”

“Could we?”

“We do still need to get supplies,” Nathaniel said, hoping it wasn’t obvious how much his heartbeat quickened at the sight of Anders’ hopeful smile.

Ten spent sovereigns later, they had several health poultices, enough food to last them the week, and a scarf that Anders had been taken with but hadn’t actually asked for.

“I suppose we have to go back into the wilderness now,” Anders said, clearly displeased with the notion.

It was a horrible idea. It was probably one of the worst ideas he’d had since his attempt at drunk archery. But he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “We could get a room at an inn.”

Anders kissed him, and all his reservations immediately dissolved. “You’re the best, Nate.”

As Anders practically dragged him to the inn, Nathaniel couldn’t help but smile fondly and reflect on how doomed he was.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just pointless fluff to tide us all over while I get the next chapter planned out. Enjoy!

“Is it everything you dreamed of?” Nathaniel said as Anders entered the room ahead of him.

“Well, the lifesize mabari statue never figured into my dreams. Well, maybe one of them. But I’d had some sort of fancy Orlesian cheese before bed that night,” Anders said, placing his pack on the bed and watching as the cat crawled out to explore the room. He turned to look at Nathaniel and frowned. “If you’re so worried about us being caught here, we could leave.”

“After how much I spent for this room? I doubt it,” Nathaniel said, smiling as Anders ran his fingers over the creases in his forehead.

“We’ll be fine. You _are_ married to an incredibly intimidating and devilishly handsome mage, after all,” Anders said, kissing him.

“If you intend to do that lightning trick on them--”

“Have some faith in me! I’ve thrown fireballs before. Nearly burned down a barn once, in fact,” Anders said with more pride than he probably should have. He plopped onto the bed; the cat immediately ran over to curl up on his chest.

“What’s the verdict on the mattress?”

“It’s certainly better than the ground.”

Nathaniel set his pack down next to the bed and joined Anders. After a moment’s thought, he sat up and dug something out of his bag.

“Nate.”

“Yes?”

“You told me to only bring the essentials.”

“Your point being?”

“I didn’t know the erotica I bought you counted as essential,” Anders said, the smile evident in his voice.

“Well, how else will I get ideas for debauching you?” Nathaniel said wryly.

Anders snorted. “You seem creative enough.” In a singsong voice, he added, “Face it--you _like_ the book. You think it’s quality literature. You probably want the rest of the series.”

“It’s part of a series?” Nathaniel said before he could stop himself.

Anders laughed.

“Don’t make me gag you,” Nathaniel said without any real ire.

“Ooh, is that a promise, Messere Howe?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Sounds painful. Should I find a healer for that?” Anders said, poking Nathaniel’s side.

Nathaniel tried his hardest not to squirm away. He failed miserably. Anders, sensing weakness like a mabari could sense a puddle of mud to roll in, sprang up and began tickling Nathaniel in earnest. Despite the fact that Nathaniel completely failed to tickle him, Anders was laughing just as hard as him. By the time Nathaniel had surrendered, they were both laughing that soundless laugh that comes after laughing all the oxygen away.

“You--are--the worst,” Nathaniel said, panting and fighting to keep from laughing again.

“I try,” Anders said chipperly.

“I sincerely doubt that,” Nathaniel said as he pulled Anders down for a kiss. 


	19. Chapter 19

“Wake up,” Anders whispered, peppering Nathaniel’s face with kisses.

“What was that you said about waking up at a reasonable hour?”

“I could tickle you again,” Anders said, unable to stop himself from grinning at the thought. Tempting as it was, however, he had better plans.

Nathaniel groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “This better be good.”

Anders straddled Nathaniel and ground against him. “This good enough for you?”

Nathaniel gasped, and Anders smiled as hands clutched his hips. He said, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

“If you just wanted to talk, you could sit somewhere else,” Nathaniel said, tugging at Anders’ smalls. “There’s oil in my pack.”

Anders climbed off him to rummage through the bag, raising his eyebrows at the length of rope coiled at the bottom. Sure, Nathaniel probably had some “practical” explanation for it, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have some fun with it. He’d save that proposition for when they weren’t both still half-asleep.

Having fetched the oil, he shimmied out of his smalls and resumed straddling Nathaniel, who had already pushed off the blanket and his smalls. He uncorked the vial and was about to pour some on his fingers when Nathaniel gestured for him to hand it over. He did so, breath hitching as Nathaniel slicked up his fingers and pressed one inside Anders. In what appeared to be an emerging pattern, Nathaniel took his time stretching Anders until neither one of them could stand it any longer. The moment Nathaniel removed his fingers, Anders sank onto him.

He ran his fingers over Nathaniel’s face as he set a gentle, sleepy pace, trying his hardest to memorize Nathaniel’s features by touch. Nathaniel’s nails dug into his hips as they rose and sank to meet each other in the middle until their climaxes came with a speed and intensity surprising to both of them.

Anders kissed Nathaniel before getting up to clean himself off at the washbasin. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“We have to go into the woods-”

Anders groaned.

“To search for a lost set of bracers. Apparently they’ve been in the Thwippe family for several generations, and they’ve offered a sizeable reward for their return,” Nathaniel said, standing and walking over to stand by Anders at the washbasin. Anders leaned into his touch as Nathaniel placed a hand on the small of his back. “We’ll be staying in town for at least another day.”

“And then back to traipsing through the wilderness, I imagine.”

“Unfortunately, yes. But once we get far enough away, we can settle down and you can avoid the woods at all costs,” Nathaniel said, kissing Anders’ neck.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Anders said, twisting slightly to kiss Nathaniel. “I suppose we should get dressed, then.”

“That’s generally considered a good idea for going out in public.”

* * *

 

“Are you sure this map is accurate?” Anders said, lifting his robes to avoid snagging them on a twig. “Because it feels like we’ve been walking in circles. I swear I’ve seen this tree before.”

“Like you can tell trees apart,” Nathaniel said, pausing to let Anders catch up.

“I can! There are ones with needles, and ones with leaves. Sometimes the ones with leaves have fruit on them. Ask me about herbs; I know those,” Anders said.

“The map says we should be getting close, unless this is a bit of jam,” Nathaniel said, scraping at the paper with his nail. “It’s jam.”

“Great.”

“But it was covering the X on the map, at least. We’re no more than a few yards away; come on.”

* * *

 

“They’re not here,” Nathaniel said after his fifth time scrabbling through the dirt and leaves.

Anders scrubbed his hands over his face and resisted the urge to scream. Through his fingers, a metallic glint caught his eye.

“Wait. There’s something over there,” he said, pointing in its direction.

Nathaniel walked over and brushed the leaves away. “Anders, you’re brilliant,” he said, grabbing the bracers and immediately falling to the ground.

“Nate?” Anders said, rushing to his side and shaking him gently. “Nate?”

Nathaniel remained unresponsive.


	20. Chapter 20

“Shit, shit, shit,” Anders said, casting healing spell after healing spell on his fallen husband, thankful that his tutor had insisted on him learning them. A knot formed in his throat, and his vision blurred. “Come on, wake up. Don’t you _dare_ leave me.” Why weren’t any of his spells working?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move. He turned to look, and the blood froze in his veins.

A creature nearly seven feet tall stood before him, brandishing a sword and shield. It appeared to be little more than a skeleton in armour, but it exuded an aura of sheer malevolent power. The air was heavy with the stench of putrefaction, and it was all Anders could do to keep from gagging.

“I don’t suppose you’ve come to revive my husband,” Anders said with a nervous chuckle.

The creature raised its sword above its head and moved towards him.

“Figures,” Anders said, his word barely audible over the pounding of his heart. He was scared, sure. Anyone with functioning emotions would be. But mostly he was mad. Mad that he and Nathaniel had had to run away to stay together. Mad that they’d have to keep running for the rest of their lives. Mad that the man he loved, the reason he ran, might have been taken from him, and he’d been powerless to stop it. Fury blazing through his veins and tears of anger and fear burning in his eyes, he shot out a beam of ice that caught the creature in the chest. Before it had time to recover, he shot out every offensive spell he could think of until his mana was drained. When he couldn’t cast any more spells, he resorted to picking up a reasonably large branch and bludgeoning the creature with it.

“How. Dare. You,” he said, punctuating each word with a smack from the branch. “I loved him!”

The creature fell to the ground, but he continued to hit it until his arms were past the point of exhaustion.

“Anders?”

He spun faster than he thought possible and saw Nathaniel propped up on one arm and rubbing his head. He rushed to his side.

“Maker, Nate,” he said, pulling Nathaniel close to him. “I thought--”

“Not quite,” Nathaniel said softly, allowing Anders to hold him. “I do have a massive headache, though.”

“Give me a bit, and I’ll take care of that,” Anders said, clutching Nathaniel and breathing heavily.

“You weren’t lying,” Nathaniel said after several seconds.

“About?” Anders said. His breathing had calmed somewhat, but he lost control again at the sound of Nathaniel’s voice. To think he’d nearly been robbed of hearing it again… It was too much.

“I _am_ married to an incredibly intimidating and devilishly handsome mage. Hopefully one who can heal my head now.”

“Right,” Anders said, channeling his newly replenished mana into a healing spell. “Better?”

“Much.”

“Good. Now let’s get out of the forest. I’ve had more than my fill of wilderness.”

“Good idea.”


	21. Chapter 21

They returned the bracers, and Nathaniel managed to drag Anders out mid-tirade before Thackeroy Thwippe III decided to rescind his generous payment.

“He endangered your life,” Anders protested as they left the manor. “You’re lucky I didn’t punch him.”

“The notice said it would be dangerous,” Nathaniel said, still gripping Anders’ elbow in case the mage decided to storm back into the manor.

“‘Dangerous’ implies ‘snakes and maybe a bear or two’, not ‘weird possessed jewellery that unleashes awful skeleton-things and knocks out your husband’,” Anders said, making a rude gesture over his shoulder as they departed through the gates.

Nathaniel stopped to kiss Anders’ cheek. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

“I’ll be bloody adorable if our quests keep ending up like this,” Anders said, though he seemed slightly mollified. He turned and held Nathaniel’s wrists, looking him in the eye. “Nate… I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

Nathaniel took Anders’ wrists and squeezed gently, hoping it would calm Anders. “You won’t lose me. I promise you that no matter what, I’ll be with you.”

Anders kissed him, and Nathaniel couldn’t help but wonder if it was obvious how he was only remaining calm so that they wouldn’t both panic. When he’d been lying there on the forest ground, it had been like being trapped in a miniature blizzard. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t see or hear anything, and the cold made his limbs heavy to the point of immobility. The thought of it made him want to scream just to prove he could. His chest was constricting; he couldn’t breathe--and suddenly lips were on his again, and the warmth returned to his skin.

“Next time, I’m touching the weird, possessed jewellery,” Anders said with a small smile.

“Next time, we’re not touching any weird, possessed jewellery,” Nathaniel amended. “Let’s get back to the inn. We have a long day of planning a ball ahead of us.”

They returned to the inn, and Anders fell asleep almost immediately. When Nathaniel was certain Anders wouldn’t stir, he let himself cry, taking care not to make too much noise. He didn’t regret his decision, and he wouldn’t change it for the world, but what had he gotten himself into? Anders trusted him, that much was clear. For all he knew, Anders thought he had some grand plan for their escape, when the whole thing had been an act of desperation to avoid losing his husband. If things continued in their current trajectory, he might anyway. The thought was like a lead weight on his chest, and it took all his mental strength to shift it. When he could breathe easily again, he let himself fall asleep. As he drifted off, he was vaguely aware of Anders’ arms wrapping around his torso.


	22. Chapter 22

“We cannot invite a bear to a ball,” Nathaniel said, burying his head in his hands.

“I don’t see why not,” Anders said with a smile like a bucketful of water placed on top of a door. To Nathaniel’s dismay, the host of the ball nodded along with Anders’ words.

“It’s a bear.”

“Ser Cuddlestone is a respected part of our family, and Byron won’t come unless Cuddles is invited,” Lady Mondegreen said with a sniff so haughty it had probably been bred for supreme snootiness. “Byron even took Cuddles to university with him.”

Nathaniel blinked, unsure of what to do with that information. “Is Cuddles well-behaved?” he finally said, already dreading the answer.

Lady Mondegreen nodded, the elaborate feather decorations in her hair flapping as though her head was preparing for flight. “Oh, yes. He always wears his ruff, and he only bit a man’s leg once.”

“That’s… good,” Nathaniel said, fighting to keep his tone neutral. The majority of his brain was banging its metaphorical head against a wall, and he had a strong temptation to follow suit. “If you’re certain he’ll behave himself, I suppose you could invite Ser Cuddlestone. It’s your ball, after all.”

“Perfect,” Lady Mondegreen said, clapping her gloved hands. “Now, what do you think of a puce ballgown?”

Five hours later, they left the manor with a pouch of sovereigns, pounding headaches, and two invitations to what would most likely be the greatest disaster in the history of balls. They’d been unable to dissuade Lady Mondegreen from serving nothing but variations of salmon mousse, and she refused to believe that vomit yellow and bright green were an unpleasant colour combination.

“I hope she doesn’t mention us by name,” Anders said as they walked back to the inn. “I’d rather not have an army of dissatisfied ball-goers track us down with plates of leftover salmon mousse.”

Nathaniel chuckled. “You have no-one to blame but yourself. If you hadn’t encouraged her about the bear, she wouldn’t have known she could get away with the rest of it.”

“Do you think there’s any way we can escape going to the ball?”

“Probably not, unless one of us is deathly allergic to salmon.”

“I’m deathly allergic to having my limbs bitten by bears. Is that close enough?”

“It might--” Nathaniel said, jerking to a stop before he ran into the line of arrows pointing directly at him and Anders. He glanced left and right; they were surrounded.

Under his breath, Anders let loose a string of curses impressive for their creative blasphemy.

“You’re surrounded,” the leader said, having clearly been chosen for his tactical skills and not his ability to make interesting conversation. “Surrender peacefully, and we’ll see that you’re not maimed.”

“What do you think, Nate?” Anders whispered. “Should we risk being maimed?”

Nathaniel squinted. In the dim light, he could barely make out the Howe family crest on the men’s armour. He sighed and then said, “We surrender.”

The guards clapped manacles on their wrists--”This is really unnecessary; we already surrendered,” Anders protested--and began marching them back to the Howe estate.

They arrived in the wee hours of the morning, footsore and covered in dust from the trek. They’d scarcely entered the courtyard when they were ushered to the main hall, where Arl Howe stood slightly elevated above them.

“And so you return,” Arl Howe said as the guards removed the manacles.

“It’s amazing how being dragged back to an estate has those results,” Anders said, wincing as Nathaniel nudged him in the ribs and shushed him.

“Tell me, Nathaniel,” Arl Howe said without so much as glancing at Anders. “Why did you do it? Why throw away your birthright for some glorified whore?”

Nathaniel felt his cheeks warm as anger and nerves pounded through his veins. He raised his chin and said loudly and clearly so there could be no mistaking his words, “I love him.”

Beside him, Anders gasped quietly and took his hand.

Arl Howe raised an eyebrow. “It seems there’s no accounting for taste. At any rate, there are some things more important than love, Nathaniel. You’ll recall the purpose of this marriage was to secure a trade route in the Anderfels.”

“Which you did,” Nathaniel said as calmly as he could. He refused to seem the petulant child.

“Not to the extent promised,” Arl Howe responded, clasping his hands behind his back. “Therefore, the marriage is null and void.”

“Wait,” Anders said, squeezing Nathaniel’s hand. “My family may not have all the property you were promised, but we have connections all across Thedas. Perhaps we could renegotiate the arrangement?”

Arl Howe’s other eyebrow raised to the elevation of the first and he smiled, looking nothing so much as a weasel in a rabbit’s warren. “I’d have to see the extent of their connections, but perhaps we could make another deal. Until then, you may both stay here. Let no man say I’m unreasonable.”

Nathaniel bit back a retort and simply said, “Thank you, father.”

He turned to Anders, smiled like he’d never smiled before, and said, “Come on.”

Exhausted, dusty, and kept awake purely by love and adrenaline, they retired to Nathaniel’s chambers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we reach the end. Special thanks to herdustisverypretty for all the words of encouragement! I might add an epilogue or two, but I'm still deciding.


End file.
